


unsigned art work left in the h. senju arts building will be thrown out at the end of the semester

by Fifthnameattempt



Series: what you put in [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: College AU, Friendship, Gen, Modern AU, Modern Sai is a good friend but he would rather DIE than have someone point that out, Pre-Med Student Sakura, Sakura & Sai is the friendship we deserved more of, Struggling with mental health issues and not noticing, lol whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fifthnameattempt/pseuds/Fifthnameattempt
Summary: Sakura is having a bad day. Maybe it's been bad for longer than that. A quiet night with a friend she's been taking for granted reminds her she needs to take care of herself as much as she takes care of others.Alternatively: Sai is never going to pass a traditional art class, is he? He should just admit it and drop the visual arts major. But he really likes having late night access to the art building and a steady supply of new brushes, so he keeps trying to do the work even though his friends distract him.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Sai
Series: what you put in [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178561
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	unsigned art work left in the h. senju arts building will be thrown out at the end of the semester

“And then Ino, that pig, interrupts me in the middle of my own lecture and – eh? Sai? Are you even listening to me?” Sakura huffs and pushes away the balloon she’s been bouncing between her hands for a good thirty minutes now in order to turn a full pout on her friend. “Why does no one ever listen to me?”

“I’m listening.” Sai answers, the _liar_. He’s putting aside his notebooks and setting up the oversized sketch pad, apparently satisfied with his prep work and ready to start the final project.

Sakura is briefly torn between relief and sadness. Relief because they’ve been sitting in this glorified storeroom passing for an art classroom for hours now; sadness because after this she has nowhere to go but her empty apartment. She pushes both feelings aside to continue rambling.

“So anyway, Ino shouldn’t have interrupted me, was the point. It was a good presentation, but I got three points knocked off my final score for ‘unprofessionalism’ because I cursed at her.” Sai makes a little sound to acknowledge that he’s heard her – the liar – and Sakura sighs, resigning herself to quiet.

Not even his brush strokes make a sound; he’s ghosting a dry brush half a centimetre over the paper, rehearsing and rehearsing the motion dozens of times before he so much as selects his ink.

Sakura curls her legs underneath her and looks out over the darkened quad. The view from the window is decent, but it’s gotten late and the few students walking around are mostly making beelines for home. Not much to watch. Sakura uncurls her legs, stretching until her toes press against the opposite wall. She swings one leg over the side of the ledge, kicking the air. Curls her legs underneath her again.

“Are you having some kind of fit?” Sai asks, placidly dipping his brush into a pot of ink she’d missed him picking out and moving it across the paper in one long, steady motion. He goes slowly, to reduce errors in the line, but also to let the ink run heavy, soaking the page. It’s a delicate balance between perfection and disaster. He wants to get it right on the first try.

“I dunno, probably.” Sakura sighs, running her hands along the seams of her stolen jean jacket. She’s not even offended by the accusation. He might be right. Her hands feel like they’re buzzing lightly, too full of an unnamed energy she doesn’t know how to burn off. She drops from the window and begins pacing the length of the wide classroom before clapping her hands together and announcing, “We should become pagans!”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious, Sai!” She begins to pace in earnest now, quick circles around the low benches where art students take turns drawing and being drawn during the day and sit empty all night.

“We should re-form the Cult of Bacchus and drink wine under a full moon! We should raise an alter to Hecate in the biology greenhouse. Full-on Grecco-Roman shit!”

“Alright.” He begins to lighten his touch, letting the end of the stroke taper off slowly until it’s just a whisper of a stain in the corner of the page. He likes this style, this method he’s been developing. Lots of prep work to get it right the first time, but the payoff was nearly immediate. Gratifying.

“Don’t just agree with me, Sai.” Sakura snaps from the far side of the room, suddenly and overwhelmingly annoyed by his mindless agreeableness. He’s supposed to be _working_ on his shit, not just blindly agreeing to things anymore. She’s tired of having so many friends who don’t know how to take care of themselves. Who need her to remind them and then leave her behind when they’re well. “You don’t even know who Bacchus is!”

“Bacchus is a god of wine.” Sai says, but there’s no animosity or defensiveness in his tone. “Son of Zeus and either a mortal woman or a minor goddess. He likely originates from the pre-Grecian culture of the island of Crete but became a prominent figure in the major pantheons of both Greece and Rome. I’ve taken four units of Greek, Sakura.”

“Right. Sorry.” She says, deflating under his gentle rebuke. He gives her a half-shrug to let her know he’s not really mad at which point she notices his hands are still for the first time in hours. “Is it done? Can I see?”

He nods, assenting to both questions and she crosses the room eagerly. He hates when people look at his process work, so she always gives him space, but she’s curious what he’s been working on all night. He props the oversized pad onto an easel, so she doesn’t have to strain over his shoulder to see and looks pretty satisfied with himself on the modified Sai Scale of Emotional Expression. She turns the corner and feels her mouth fall a little slack, her hand resting softly on his shoulder.

“Is that – this is…”

It’s her. Abstracted down to a single, fluid line, but still unmistakably her. The drape of her hair from where she’d been leaning against the window is just right. The motion of her hands captured mid-gesticulation as she complains about a mundane aspect of her day. It’s flattering, even, giving her waist and hips definition she doesn’t think her current outfit really warrants.

But that’s not what catches her by surprise. There’s something underneath the likeness. It’s in the weight of the line up close, the way the curves flicker in and out uneasily. There’s wildness in the form. A hint of chaos barely contained and ready to bleed over.

“Is this really how I look?” _fuck_ , she didn’t mean for that to come out so sad. So broken.

Sai, blessed angel, merely _hm’s_ a noncommittal response and keeps his eyes locked on the brush he’s cleaning. She squeezes his shoulder, to let him know she hears him and is thankful.

“They left again. Without me.” She explains the answer to the question he hasn’t asked, keeping her eyes on her likeness because it’s easier than facing the truth head on. “I don’t know why they keep doing that. I thought I was over being sad about it. I didn’t even notice how bad it had gotten. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Sai, the little devil, says, “Just stop letting it get so far along. Take your damn meds.”

“Okaaaaay, Sai-shishou.” She swats his shoulder and the tension lifts out of the moment, both of them laughing a little in relief as they start to breathe normally again. She steps away from his workspace so he can finish cleaning up and frowns at the pile of fruits and vegetables neatly arranged on a table in the center of the room.

“Wait…” She puzzles out, “Wasn’t the assignment for a still life? What are you going to turn in tomorrow?”

When she turns around again, she catches the corner of Sai’s scowl before he looks away from her. “I’ll scratch something out in the morning.” He grumbles, “Still lifes are boring. I didn’t want to spend my night working on one, anyway.”

“Oh, Sai.” Sakura says, fondness filling her chest with a pleasant bubbling feeling, “You really are going to have to drop the visual arts major, aren’t you?”

Their advisor had been telling him to drop it for two semesters now. The low grades were pulling down his otherwise immaculate GPA. He lets out a frustrated huff, placing the portrait on a back table where it can dry safely. “It’s embarrassing. I’m supposed to be good at this stuff.”

“You _are_ good at it.” Sakura reminds him, tapping the portrait fondly before linking their arms together and heading for the exit. “You’re just not good at it on someone else’s schedule. That’s not a bad thing, necessarily.”

“Maybe.” He mutters eventually, letting the door to the building fall shut behind them and then giving it a tug to make sure it’s locked. “Still feels like giving up.”

She lets the subject drop after that and the walk across campus is passed mostly in silence. With any one of her other friends that would be cause for concern or at least a lot of awkwardness. But not with Sai. Sai wears silence like Naruto eats ramen; like Sasuke starts fights; like Sakura wears a stolen jacket. Easily, comfortably. Finally feeling at home after a long period away.

As they pass between streetlights, she wonders if they make an odd pair – the pre-med student who forgets to take her medication; the would-be art student who can’t turn in a finished assignment – and quickly decides she doesn’t care. She’s tired of overanalyzing her friendships one at a time until they make her bitter and sad just to think about. Sai is uncomplicated, despite his deeply complicated life, and she wants to keep it that way.

They arrive at the locked door to her apartment building and he turns to leave once she finds her keys at the bottom of her bag. Before he can go, however, she tilts up onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. He takes a stumbling, half step back while she giggles at his offended expression.

“What was that for?” He demands, hand flying to his cheek like she’d shocked him.

“For not leaving me.” She says, then bites the inside of her lip and amends, “For being yourself. You’re a good friend, Sai.”

“You’re crazy.” He shakes his head at her, moving away quickly, “Take your meds!”

“I love you!” She shouts at his retreating back, still giggling. His shoulders rise and pinch together, a physical cringe. She’s certain that if he turned around, he’d be blushing.

“Fuck you!” He shouts back without looking over his shoulder.

Sakura keeps laughing as she elbows her way into the building and climbs the stairs to her apartment. She feels better than she has in days. Lighter, but somehow more grounded as well. The inherent relief of knowing someone else is watching out for her. She’s not in it alone. In truth, she’d probably never been alone. It was just her brain telling her that she was.

When she gets into her apartment, Sakura drops her keys on the kitchen counter and checks her phone while reheating last night’s leftovers in the microwave. There’s one unread message waiting for her.

_Love you, too. Hag._

**Author's Note:**

> Sakura is technically pre-med but thinking of switching to a bio-chem so she has more exposure to traditional lab work before heading to med school. She has bipolar disorder and is only sort of managing it.
> 
> Sai is double majoring in Classics and Visual Arts, but only one of those is going well.
> 
> Naruto and Sasuke have fucked off to do field work somewhere, probably with Kakashi, and they didn't think Sakura would want to come, the jerks.
> 
> ((AU where the Konoha 11 - 13 met as part of a janky, only semi-accredited, collegiate honors program and are still trying to figure out what to do with their lives after school. This is not a real AU and it's definitely not based on my bachelor's experience that would be weird why are you even still reading the notes? Move on, dude, the story is OVER.))


End file.
